


Falling Down and Getting Up

by thegingermidget



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-01 03:06:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10913043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegingermidget/pseuds/thegingermidget
Summary: Otabek loves to watch Yuri skate. The way he moves across the ice is absolutely beautiful, but there is always a worry in the back of his mind. It is so easy for any move you make on the ice to be the one that ends your career. The ice can be hard and unforgiving; one false move and all your dreams can be taken away.





	Falling Down and Getting Up

**Author's Note:**

> Art by [acecakes](https://acecakes.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr. Fic by [keep-on-leggin](https://keep-on-leggin.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr. Betaed by [sondeneige](http://sondeneige.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr. For the Otayuri Reverse Bang 2017
> 
> Enjoy!

 

 

 

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough for one day?” asked Otabek as Yuri set down his water bottle and prepared to go again.

 

“I just want to run the sequence one more time, it wasn’t right last time.” He skates out to the center of the ice, his blades barely making a sound. When he’s ready he looks to Otabek to start the music. 

 

Otabek sighs. “We’re going to be late for the party, you know.”

 

“They’ll be fine for a few minutes without us. And Victor can never get out of the house on time anyway, we’ll be fine.” 

 

Otabek starts the music and Yuri moves into position for the part he wants to practice. The section is part of a step sequence that moves into a quad toe loop and a triple lutz. Yuri can do the jumps and perform them in sequence, but he needs to get them in time with the music.

 

Watching Yuri skate almost feels like falling in love with him again. Otabek wasn’t able to admit that he was in love with Yuri for a while, at first they were just good friends. 

 

Then came the night of Yuuri Katsuki and Victor Nikiforov’s bachelor party. The couple had invited nearly every professional male figure skater in competition for a night of debauchery. Otabek probably wouldn’t have accepted the invitation, but Yuri didn’t want to endure it alone. 

 

Victor had rented a penthouse suite for the night. The music was loud, the champagne was flowing, and a stripper pole had been installed in the center of the room. Yuuri tried valiantly to hold off on the champagne, but Christophe Giacometti kept handing him glasses. Another dance off ensued.

 

After a couple of drinks, Otabek felt a heady buzz from drinking and was actually having fun. Yuri was not handling his alcohol as well as Otabek and was removing clothes to prepare to enter the dance off. Knowing that the Ice Tiger would definitely regret this in the morning, Otabek steered him towards the rooftop balcony.

 

Yuri frowned at the suggestion but followed him. 

 

“You know I can beat them.” Yuri hiccuped and Otabek thought it was adorable, “They’re both too old to pole dance.” 

 

“I know you can,” said Otabek. 

 

Yuri was standing so close to him. Otabek wondered at first if he was scared of heights and then Yuri rolled his hips against him. Oh.

 

“I could show you,” said Yuri in a husky voice that Otabek had never heard from him before.

 

Yuri never got a chance to show him.

 

They kissed outside in the cold. Their breath formed hot clouds and Yuri looked up at him with shining eyes. It was then that he realized he was in love with this boy and the words tripped and tumbled out of his mouth. Yuri’s mouth dropped into an “o”. He looked so young and pure, slightly confused as he processed Otabek’s words.

 

On the ice, Yuri moves in for the final element in the sequence, all of it so close to perfect. His hair whips around as he spins.

 

Yuri realizes something has gone wrong a fraction of a second before Otabek. He’s gotten all the rotations in. The arch of his jump is on the decline, his body wraps around itself once more before his blade lands on the ice, but it doesn’t land right. 

 

The blade skids off the ice and Yuri goes down. Otabek starts moving before he hits the ground. 

 

Skaters are used to taking falls, but no matter how many times you fall, it never hurts any less. Any fall can be the one that breaks you. Otabek would never let anything hurt Yuri, but he doesn’t really have a choice on the ice. All he can do is be there to help him up.

 

He knows it's bad when Yuri is quiet at first. When Yuri messes up, he curses. He swears and scowls until he gets back into position and tries again. With two hands he forces himself to his feet and shakes off the momentary defeat. 

 

Not this time.

 

Yuri tries to hold in a gasp of pain but lets out a small sob. Otabek tries to remember what you are supposed to do when something like this happens. His delicate ankle is bent at a wrong angle. He knows he shouldn’t move anything too much, but Yuri is in pain and he can’t see what happened with the skate on.

 

Against Otabek’s gentle arm telling him to stop moving, Yuri can’t stand himself up but he is able to get it out from underneath himself. Frantic fingers, trembling with the shock of pain, start untying the laces of his skates, but Otabek insists on taking it off slowly and carefully.

 

When it finally comes off the foot looks… bad.

 

Instead of looking at it further, Otabek looks up at Yuri’s face. His red cheeks are streaked with tears. Without a thought, he kisses them away. Yuri shudders.

 

“Shh,” Yuri tries to say something but it comes out as a cry. “I’ll call an ambulance, and then Victor,” Yuri tries to protest. “Shut up and don’t move.” His voice doesn’t allow room for argument.

 

Otabek hurries back to his phone. How can he be so calm? He’s not, but he doesn’t want Yuri to panic.

 

What if Yuri’s ankle is broken? What then?

 

With the best skaters, it’s easy to forget that injury is often an inevitability. Boys like Yuri always start young and strong and healthy, but can never stay that way. They grow old and retire when they can’t compete with the younger crowd, or when their bodies give out, or when injury means they can never skate again.

 

An ambulance comes to take Yuri to the hospital. Victor and Yuuri meet them there. For a moment, the hospital staff balks at having so many people who aren’t technically related to the patient. All of them refuse to leave and eventually they acquiesce and let them up, one at a time.

 

Otabek is glad they let him go up first. He isn’t sure how Yuri would react to anyone else.

 

The doctors have given Yuri some painkillers. It’s been a few hours now, it shouldn’t hurt anymore, but there are still tears on Yuri’s face.

 

Yuri furiously wipes them away when he sees the door open. Before seeing who it is, he becomes defensive; when he sees that it’s Otabek, he relaxes instantly.

 

“Beka,” he starts. “It’s broken.”

 

“The doctors say it’s not too bad.” 

 

“The doctors consider walking without crutches in three months a speedy recovery. I need to skate.”

 

Otabek sits in the bed beside him, careful of the injured leg, and takes Yuri’s hand. Yuri lets his head fall on Otabek’s shoulder. He’s done crying, but he’s still upset.

 

“Three months off or a year, you’ll get back out there. I know it.”

 

“It doesn’t work like that,” says Yuri. 

 

Otabek looks down at him. “You won’t rest until you’re back out there. You’re too angry.” He smiles when he says that. He means it as a compliment.

 

“Yura…” He doesn’t know what he can say to make this any easier. 

 

Yuri meets his eyes. There’s a measure of hardness and certainty within them. He reaches up for his jawline and kisses him. His lips are fervent and strong and it takes a moment for Otabek to respond to his eagerness.

 

“They needed to cut off my pants for the x-ray,” says Yuri with a grin, breathing a little harder than before. Otabek rolls his eyes and kisses him again. 

 

When a nurse comes to take Otabek away and let Victor or Yuuri in, they are locked in a passionate embrace on the bed. Yuri kisses with abandon, feeling out of control and seeking Otabek’s steady foundation. Otabek was at first surprised by Yuri and then relented seeing that this is what Yuri wants and needs.

 

The nurse does not bat an eye at them. “Your time is up, if the other two want to get in here you need to get out now. I told you I can only let one visitor up here at a time.”

 

Their eyes snap open instantly when they hear her speak, unaware that she’d even been in the room. Otabek pulls back first and Yuri laughs. 

 

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” says Otabek, ignoring Yuri’s smirk.

 

“He doesn’t have to stay overnight. We’ll need to give him a cast and crutches but after that, he’s free to go. I assume you’re his boyfriend?”

 

“Otabek Altin,” he introduces himself and she ignores him.

 

“We’ve x-rayed his ankle and he’s definitely broken it. With the cast and some physical therapy he could back up and around in about eight weeks.”

 

This sounded like good news to Otabek. He left Yuri with another peck on the cheek and followed the nurse outside. The nurse seemed completely different out in the hall. 

 

“I wasn’t sure if he should overhear this, but as someone close to him, perhaps you can be the judge of that. I am not an orthopedist, but there may be complications with his bone. He has an appointment and they will determine whether or not he needs surgery, but it may not be as easy as I made it sound.”

 

Otabek’s face hardened. “And you didn’t tell him?”

 

“I gave him the most likely diagnosis. No sense in worrying him now. You can tell him if you like, I just thought someone should know.”

 

After getting to know Yuri, the younger man had told him that he found Otabek’s face intimidating when he wasn’t smiling. He called it his ‘resting bitch face’ and pointed it out every time he saw it, causing Otabek to break into a smile. Otabek knew he was giving the nurse that look now and wasn’t sure she deserved it.

 

After Yuuri and Victor took their turns with Yuri, Otabek tells them to go home. It’s getting late and they’re probably hungry like he is. Otabek would stay with Yuri to take him home.

 

“How do you plan on getting there? You don’t have a car?” asks Yuuri, and Otabek admits he has a point.

 

“You don’t either. I’ll call a taxi.”

 

In the end, they leave and Otabek brings a slice of hospital pizza for Yuri who is probably starving and angry by now. It’s close to midnight already.

 

Life in the hospital doesn’t stop after the sun goes down. The visitors leave, but people still rush in and out, nurses walk the halls with clipboards, patients are still awake in their beds. The nurse let Otabek stay past visiting hours because Yuri would be ready to leave in the dark early hours of morning.

 

They give Yuri a cast to set the ankle in place and set up appointments for him in the coming days. They don’t know if he’ll need surgery yet, but he’s free to go around 2 in the morning.

 

By the time they clear Yuri to leave, he’s fallen asleep leaning on Otabek in the hospital bed. The painkillers have made him exceptionally drowsy. Rather than try to negotiate crutches Yuri wheels himself to the taxi and he took Yuri back to his apartment; letting them in with the key Yuri had trusted to him. 

 

“Can you… would you mind staying here tonight?” Otabek was about to leave when he heard Yuri from the bed. He had assumed that Yuri had fallen asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

 

He doesn’t say anything, but takes off his shoes, strips down to his boxers and gets under the sheets to lie beside him. 

 

Everything is quiet for a while. Yuri’s breathing beside him is calm and slow and steady. Again, Otabek thinks he’s asleep when Yuri whispers to him.

 

“Thank you,” he says in a low voice and presses a kiss to his cheek.

 

Yuri ends up needing surgery for his ankle. It’s not the worst case scenario for an ankle injury, but neither of them wants to admit they are disappointed by how long the healing process will take.

 

On the morning of the surgery, Otabek wakes up early to grab coffee for the two of them before the appointment. When he comes back, Otabek tries to take Yuri to the doctor but Yuri stops him.

 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Yuri crutches over to him with an arched brow.

 

“I’m taking you to the surgery.”

 

The blond hardly bats an eye as he checks his phone. “No, you’re not. I called Yuuri. He’s coming to pick me up.”

 

“You don’t want me there?” 

 

“Of course I do, but didn’t you have time on the ice scheduled for this morning?”

 

As part of his normal training, he was supposed to skate this morning and head to the gym in the afternoon. He should have done the same yesterday and Friday last week, but Yuri had taken precedent. “I did, but you’re more important-”

 

“I’m not.”

 

“Yura-” he says with a sigh.

 

“If I can’t skate, you have to.”

 

“What?”

 

At last, Yuri puts the phone down to look him in the eye. “I know you want to make sure that I’m fine, and you know what? I am, or… I will be. I…” he growls in frustration. “I’m going to be in this cast for over a month, and in physical therapy for even longer. Skating is my life. You’re my life. I want both to be with me even while I’m injured.”

 

Otabek frowns. Of course he wants to make sure Yura is fine. Part of him even thought that having to watch Otabek skate would hurt Yuri even more. Despite Yuri’s words, part of him still wonders what watching from the bleachers will do to him.

 

“You’re sure? I don't mind putting it on hold as long as you're getting better.”

 

“If you quit because of me I’ll break up with you,” says Yuri bluntly. “You’d be an idiot to give up your career for me.”

 

“You would be miserable-”

 

“We’ll both be miserable if you take time off from skating.” Yuri steps closer, a laborious process that involves maneuvering the crutches and his immobile leg, finally landing with his arms wrapped around Otabek’s neck. “I want you to win the Grand Prix Final.” 

 

“Ok.”

 

Yuri comes every time Otabek is scheduled to use the rink. He sits in the stands and watches him skate with a stony expression. They were the eyes of a soldier that had stayed with Otabek since they had first met as children. At first, Otabek fears that he’s been proven right and Yuri is upset, but he soon learns that Yuri watches his practice with stricter eyes than any judge. He critiques every move that Otabek makes on the ice. After some time, it becomes frustrating, but if Otabek is honest, he knows that Yuri is never wrong.

 

“You land too heavily coming out of the toe loop,” “Your trail leg was sloppy in that last sequence,” “Think about being graceful, a quad salchow shouldn’t look hard,” “Go again.”

 

After surgery and several weeks living with the cast, Yuri starts physical therapy. He throws himself into it with a vengeance. His skating comeback starts here with the small exercises the therapist assigns him.

 

It’s easy for Yuri to get frustrated with these. He was, is, a world class athlete reduced to ankle stretches, low impact cardio, and yoga. Yuri goes to the gym in order to keep the rest of his body in shape, but it will be futile if his ankle doesn’t heal, stronger than ever before.

 

Otabek starts taking Yuri to his yoga class. After a rocky start, he thinks Yuri has a growing appreciation for it. He could tell that Yuri was skeptical about yoga when he first suggested bringing him to a class. Yuri got his signature flexibility through ballet training, but Otabek had never been good at ballet, while Yuri was a prodigy.

 

In the corner, he could see Yuri roll his eyes when the teacher talked about chakras and energy systems in the body. He also saw Yuri’s eyes widen when the teacher lifted herself into a headstand and spread her legs wide to add a split. He saw Yuri bow his head a little bit, the way all the other students did, when the professor ended the class with “namaste”.

 

Yuri wouldn’t admit that he liked the class, but Otabek didn’t have to ask if Yuri wanted to come with him to the next class.

 

The cast and crutches are replaced by a walking boot. It doesn’t mean that they are anywhere close to being done with recovery, but the boot, nimble in comparison, feels like progress.

 

In his down time, Yuri has become Otabek’s unofficial coach. Officially, Otabek doesn’t have a coach, so despite never verbally coming to an official coach and skater relationship, it has formed naturally with time. Yuri has an eye for detail trained by Lilia Baranovskaya and a directness that is uniquely Yakov’s. Soon Otabek has to start planning his routines for the Grand Prix. 

 

“Have you chosen your music yet?” asks Yuri over dinner one night.

 

“Yeah, actually. There are these two pieces I’ve loved forever and I’ve created a really cool mix of them I decided would work for my short program and I wanted to use ’The Angel of the Fire Festival’ for my free skate.”

 

“Really?” 

 

“It’s not a bad song actually. I’m sure Lilia’s choreography for it was amazing.”

 

“It wasn’t really my style,” says Yuri with a smirk. Yuri moves to sit on Otabek’s lap now that dinner is over. They still haven't found a good table and chairs for their apartment and were eating on the couch.

 

“No, your style is more strip teases and nipple clamps if I remember correctly.”

 

“There weren’t any nipple clamps in that performance, but maybe I’ll add them for next time?” 

 

Otabek smiles into Yuri’s neck. “Only if you want to get kicked off the ice.” 

 

“The only person who would dare to try and drag me off the ice is you.”

 

“Everyone else is too afraid of your knife shoes,” murmurs Otabek as he kisses the bare skin along Yuri’s neck and collarbone. Yuri barks a laugh. Otabek steals it from his lips with a kiss, leaving a smile in its place.

 

“Would you choreograph my free skate?”

 

Yuri’s mood changes in an instant. “I’ve never choreographed anything before.”

 

“But you could. You’d be great at it.”

 

Yuri puts a hand on Otabek’s chest. He frowns, not sure if Otabek is kidding. “Be serious, Beka. For the Grand Prix?”

 

“You already know the piece. I’ve watched you skate to it, but I also know that Lilia’s choreography was not the way you would have done it. Nothing against her, but I want to see how you would want me to do it.”

 

“You- you really want to skate something I choreographed?”

 

“It’s the closest thing to having you on the ice with me.” 

 

Yuri leans his head against his chest. Of course he’ll do it. In all honesty, he’s thought about it for years. When Yuri watches Otabek skate, he sees everything and feels like he knows every muscle of his body. He knows how Otabek skates. Despite his inexperience in choreography, there is no one better for the job.

 

In September, they start training heavily. The qualifying rounds of the Grand Prix Final start next month. Otabek is on the ice almost every day. No matter how many seasons he has gone through, each one feels harder than the last. He trains harder, puts in more hours, adds to his repertoire, all in the hope that this year it will finally be enough. And if it is? There is no way that it will be the same next year.

 

Every season presents a new challenge. Sometimes, Otabek finds it hard to breathe.

 

Still, he loves it. Nothing gives him a sense of purpose like training and perfecting his routines. He knows Yuri misses it, even if he hasn’t said it out loud.

 

Yura, Victor, Yuuri, and the rest of the skating family in St Petersburg help coach him, but Yuri plays the biggest role. He is with him every day, at every practice, and Otabek knows it has helped him immensely. 

 

There are times when he feels guilty; when he thinks about how Yuri should be out here skating. Yuri has a keen instinct for knowing when he has thoughts like this. In just a few words he tells him just how ridiculous he’s being and that they can’t change the past. 

 

Otabek is assigned to the Rostelecom Cup and the NHK Trophy. The morning after the placement is announced, Yuri and Otabek are alone on the ice rink. Otabek is performing a run through of his free skate piece. He gets to the end and looks to Yuri in the stands. To his surprise, he sees Yuri standing, something the boot makes a bit difficult on the bleachers. Yuri gives him a nod.

 

“You’re ready,” he says and his usually hard expression breaks into a small, proud smile, his soldier’s eyes are shining. Otabek can’t help but smile back.

 

“Now it’s your turn,” says Otabek.

 

Yuri has laced up his skates hundreds of times before. It’s like a ritual in preparation for going out on the ice. He’s laced his skates before World Championships, several Grand Prix finals, the Olympics once, and countless international competitions. Never have his hands shaken as much as they do now. 

 

His heart is pounding in his ears and he silently curses himself for being this anxious. Yuri isn’t preparing to step onto the ice at a competition. This isn’t really even practice yet. Six months after his injury, after surgery, physical therapy, swimming and biking, anti-gravity running and yoga, after months of recovery, his doctors have decided he is cleared to skate again. 

 

Part of him is relieved. Not just relieved, Yuri never doubted that he would get back to this point eventually, he’s elated. If only that could be the extent of his mixed emotions. Instead, he’s nervous and terrified. He has doubts and fears that he absolutely hates. In the past, he never gave in to those feelings, he had a young defiance that gave him confidence. There was no time to be anxious, he needed to prove himself.

 

That part is still true. With his skates tied he walks towards the rink’s edge. Each step is a small victory, something he was unable to do days ago. Yuri takes a breath. If anyone besides Otabek was here with him now, he might have feigned a self-assured smile, but Otabek knows he’s nervous. 

 

Yuri steps out onto the ice. He’s done this thousands of times before. It’s been so long since he’s been on the ice. He is a bit embarrassed by how shaky his legs are; from fear he tells himself. 

 

“Davai, Yura!” Otabek lets out a yell to cheer him on. Yuri switches feet to skate backward and look at him. He sees Otabek giving him a thumbs up. With a smirk, Yuri sends back a rude gesture.

 

It doesn’t take long for his legs to tire out. Despite the exercise he’s been putting in over the last few months, nothing was able to fully prepare him for the rigor of figure skating once again. He spends the time today just skating back and forth across the ice. Getting comfortable again is how someone else might have described it, but Yuri has lived on the ice since he could walk. This is more like a reunion with a sibling. The two seem to know each other instantly, but they are not without quarrels.

 

He practices some of the basics of skating. Forward and backward, crossovers, shifting from one side of the blade to the other, a spin or two, all just to remind his body of how it used to move before.

 

“Alright, Yura, that’s enough for one day.”

 

Yuri’s face is flushed from exertion and he’s ready for a good shower. He turns to see Otabek at the kiss and cry, waiting for him to get off the ice.

 

“You’re going to have to come get me,” he says, teasing.

 

Otabek smiles and has his arms wrapped around him with a few flicks of his skates. His pulse leaps when Yuri smiles up at him. His fingers twist through Yuri’s long hair as he pulls him in for a kiss. The air seems filled with the fierce promise of all that is still yet to come.

 

The kiss is clumsy and breathless. Kissing on the ice is silly, each moment teetering on the edge of their blades. Being out here feels unreal after the last few months. Is it possible that all of that pain could finally be over?

 

Of course not, but things are better now. They can only get better now.

 

After hitting the showers after practice, Yuri takes a long look in the mirror. His body has changed since his injury. Even at the age of 18, it’s almost as though he’s gone through puberty again. His shoulders are broader, and he might even be a few inches taller. Being an elite athlete means living on the brink of injury and malnutrition all the time. To be away from that for even a few months shows.

 

Otabek has noticed. The cold shower he takes after practice means that he’s definitely noticed.

 

Over the last few months, having Yuri with him during his ice time has become a habit. Even now that he’s not injured, Yuri comes with him ready to coach and then to put in some time on the ice. 

 

“Don’t you dare attempt anything more than a spiral.”

 

Yuri sticks his lip out in a pout. The effect is mildly obscene. “I’m not crippled anymore, Beka.”

 

“That’s debatable.”

 

His face grows stern. “The last thing I want to do is get injured again.”

 

“I know.”

 

Otabek is preparing for the Grand Prix Final. His spot in the final six was never a guarantee, but it wasn’t too big of a surprise when he made it. They celebrated anyway.

 

In their apartment, the night before they leave for the final, Yuri watches a news broadcast of Otabek’s last free skate. Two announcers talk about the events so far as the last skater waits for his scores and Otabek waits on the ice.

 

“This will be Altin’s second public performance of this routine, choreographed by the injured Yuri Plisetsky,” says one of the announcers.

 

“Yes, he premiered the routine at the Rostelecom Cup and the judges, as well as the crowd, really seemed to enjoy it,” answers his partner.

 

The crowd had loved that performance by the end, even if they had been lukewarm to the Kazakh skater at first. The routine was more dynamic than stuff Otabek had tried in the past. It was exciting and engaging, in a calm and purposeful way that Beka exudes naturally.

 

“Speaking of Plisetsky, any news of a possible return to the field?”

 

“Well, as I’m sure you know, skating injuries can be rather extensive, often career ending. It’s never good to get one’s hopes up. However, the last bit of news from the Russian coaches says that Yuri is back to skating.”

 

The camera is still focused on Otabek. In the video, Yuri leans across the barrier to whisper in Otabek’s ear. It is impossible to read their lips, but Otabek smiles and closes his eyes.

 

“We’ll have to see whether that Plisetsky gold medal streak holds up if he makes it back.”

 

“Like his mentors, Plisetsky is full of surprises. This program he choreographed is one of them.”

 

Otabek skates to the center of the ice and assumes his starting position. He appears relaxed but is ready to pounce when his music begins.

 

Someone comes over to stand next to Yuri. He’s so nervous for Otabek that he almost doesn’t look to see who it is. 

 

“He’s going to do great.” It’s Yuuri Katsuki. There is a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. He performed only a few hours ago. Yuri wonders how he extricated himself from his husband even for a moment.

 

“Of course he will,” answers Yuri. 

 

“Are you nervous?” It’s a stupid question. The answer is yes, no matter how much he wishes it wasn’t. Yuuri looks over to see the scowl on his face. “Right, yeah, sorry. That was dumb. Look, I could tell you there’s no reason to be nervous, but that wouldn’t do anything to help. I could tell you how much I wish I could be competing against you today, but there’s no use in wishing for things that can’t happen. I don’t think there’s anything I can say to help you out, but Victor and I? We’re always going to be here for you.”

 

Yuri nods, he is touched by Yuuri’s attempt to make him feel better more than he could put into words, more than he’s willing to say. 

 

“Where is Victor, anyway?” He asks, avoiding the deeper topic at hand.

 

“Oh, he met up with Chris. They haven’t seen each other in a while and Chris is about to get married to Markus, so they’re making plans to meet up after the final.” 

 

“But he didn’t come back in with you?”

 

Yuuri has the look of a long-suffering lover. “Victor and Christophe may have gotten into a... discussion about the size and shape of certain body parts…”

 

“The Butt Debate? Again?” Yuri finds it hysterical that two grown men can go from friends to enemies in an instant over who has the better butt. He likes to bring it up now and again when the two of them get a bit drunk.

 

“I don’t really want to get in the middle of it again.” 

 

“That's because you know Chris has him beat.” Yuuri rolls his eyes at that but says nothing. Yuri wonders if he silently agrees. Victor might be more attractive but when it comes to butts...

 

Eventually, Victor jogs over to stand next to his husband.

 

“Katsuki didn’t want to defend your honor?” asks Yuri. He speaks without ever taking his eyes away from the ice, as though he might miss Otabek’s performance if he looks away even for a second.

 

“He knew I could handle it,” answers Victor with a kiss on Yuuri’s forehead.

 

The announcer’s voice booms over the loudspeaker and a hush falls over the audience. “Here is Otabek Altin of Kazakhstan, in his free skate to ‘The Angel of The Fire Festival’.”

 

And with that, he begins.

 

The piece is not something that anyone would have chosen for Otabek. It has a heroic, fiery edge to it that somewhat coincides with his previous skating styles, but also a light melody, delicate, articulate and sparkling over everything else. There is a strong bass voice that supports and converses with the upper parts.

 

Otabek isn’t skating the part of the strong fierce hero, he is lighter than air, the bright aria on top of everything else. It’s fast and technical, but he does his best to make it look effortless. 

 

Yuri doesn’t blink the whole time.

 

To his side, Yuuri and Victor are discussing the performance. He can’t make out a word they are saying, nor does he want to. 

 

He has seen Otabek perform this skate in competition twice already. If this wasn’t the Grand Prix Final, maybe he wouldn’t be so nervous. As it is, he holds his breath with every jump. 

 

Otabek is doing well. It is different from anything he has tried before. In some ways it shows, he can’t help the stronger parts of his personality shining through, but he’s landing lighter coming out of his jumps and his step sequences have improved tremendously. Yuri knew that he could do it, whereas none of his other coaches had wanted to explore those skills. Otabek has sensitivity and depth, but he’s never brought that to the ice before now.

 

The song builds up to a crescendo. Otabek doesn’t have Katsuki’s stamina to put quads in the second half of the routine, but he is following the music and his intensity has grown alongside it.

 

He finishes with a triple axel, triple lutz combination followed soon after by a flying sit spin transitioning into a layback spin and then a simple scratch spin into his final pose. The routine was executed flawlessly. It was hard to see how it could possibly have been improved.

 

The audience erupts into applause. Otabek moves from his frozen position and finally takes his first gasping breaths. 

 

Yuri is waiting for him at the kiss and cry. Without a word, they hug. Yuri wonders if Otabek could carry him now, weak and sweating after competition. He thinks he probably could. His boyfriend is very strong.

 

All that can be done now is wait for the results. It’s hard to say who will win. Yuuri Katsuki has been on fire since his gold medal win two years ago, losing to Victor last year. He and Christophe retired last year. JJ has a chance of winning but he has been struggling with his anxiety and choked a bit on his short program. Phichit Chulanont has been looking strong lately too…

 

The results come in.

 

In third place: Phichit Chulanont.

Second place, with a new world record in the free skate: Otabek Altin

And in First Place: Katsuki Yuuri.

 

Yuri can’t help but be a little disappointed. He’s happy for Otabek; this is the highest he has ever place in the Grand Prix Final. 

 

On the podium, Otabek even cracks a smile in front of the cameras, especially when Yuuri reaches an arm around the shoulders of both men standing beside him, and when Phichit whips out his phone for a podium selfie.

 

The banquet is typically a quiet affair. Despite everyone dressed in formal attire, they all seem subdued compared to their flamboyant costumes. Phichit wears a navy suit instead of his bright yellow, sequined unitard. Yuuri is wearing his glasses and a simple black suit (it’s a very expensive and well-fitting suit, courtesy of Victor’s fashion advice). There is absolutely no pole dancing, no matter how drunk the skaters start to get towards the end of the night. That will be reserved for when they all meet up tomorrow night before they leave.

 

Yuri hates having to mingle at these stupid banquets. At this point, he knows everyone here and they all know him, and he doesn’t really want to talk to anyone. 

 

He sits with Otabek and Victor and Yuuri make room for themselves at their table. Yuri doesn’t mind too much.

 

“Otabek,” says Victor, beginning to get a bit tipsy. “You should get up there and start DJing. The music here sucks.”

 

“I don’t think I should,” answers Otabek, who is back to his stoic self.

 

“Maybe later when Yuuri and I want to dance.”

 

Yuuri, who has stayed away from all forms of alcohol tonight, turns beet-red. “I’m not dancing tonight, Victor.”

 

Victor smiles widely. “We’ll see…” he sings and taps Yuuri on the nose. He stands on unsteady legs and goes over to Otabek. “Come on, “ he says to Yuri’s boyfriend. “Let’s see if they’ll let us play some real music.”

 

“Victor!” says Yuuri, looking exasperated.

 

Otabek stands and tries to keep Victor steady with one arm. “It’s okay,” he says, “I’ll take him to the bathroom to see if he’ll calm down a bit.”

 

“You don’t have to, really,” says Yuuri, but Otabek shrugs him off as he tries to lead Victor towards the men’s room.

 

Yuuri puts his head in his heads for a moment before laughing at the absurdity of the situation. While Yuri never knew Katsuki before he’d been with Victor, he knew just how happy being with Victor made him.

 

“Your boyfriend is really nice to put up with Victor like this,” says Yuuri, taking a sip of champagne from the table.

 

“Yeah, nicer than me.” Yuri eyes Katsuki’s champagne glass dubiously and decides to take it for himself. He drains the golden liquid in one go and sets it back on the table.

 

“Thanks for that. I really don’t feel like pole dancing tonight.”

 

“No problem.” 

 

There is a lull in the conversation. The rest of the skating world buzzes about them as they sit alone at the table. Occasionally, one or both of them will duck their head down to hide from someone they definitely don’t want to talk to. Neither of them is very good at mingling.

 

“Do you think you’ll be back next year? Competing, that is.”

 

Yuri considers him for a moment. “I want to. I want to compete again more than anything. I’ve started training again. It’s hard but I didn’t expect anything less.”

 

Yuuri nods sagely. “It’s going to be hard, but I don’t doubt that you can do it. You’re one of the strongest people I know. I’m proud of you already.”

 

Yuri was glad he wasn’t as drunk as Victor. If he was, he’d probably be in tears by now.

 

“I think you’ve had a little too much champagne.” 

 

Rather than get insulted, Yuuri actually laughs at that. Nothing Yuri says can hurt him anymore. 

 

“Maybe you haven’t had enough.”

 

They both decide to grab a glass of champagne and head back to the table. Victor is over by the DJ trying to get him to change the song. Otabek stands nearby with his arms crossed, just making sure that he doesn’t get out of hand. 

 

Yuri isn’t sure how many glasses of champagne he’s had anymore. He isn’t drunk, but he feels light. He feels really good for the first time in a while.

 

Victor has won control of the DJ for Otabek. At first, Otabek stands there, surveying the equipment and trying to judge what is the best course of action in this situation. He knows he’s probably not allowed to be up there, but on the other hand, is anyone really going to stop him?

 

He catches Yuri’s eye from across the room and winks.

 

“Yuuri, about my comeback,” he leans over a little too close to Yuuri. His words are only faintly slurred together.  “Would- would you mind if I used your song?”

 

“My song? What are you talking about?” Yuuri, for his part,  is doing a much better job of abstaining from the drinks.

 

“Yuri on ice. I want to be Yuri on ice. I want to skate to your song.”

 

It takes a moment for Katsuki to follow his tipsy train of thought. “Oh! Sure, go ahead. I’m sure it will be perfect.” 

 

“And Yuuri?”

 

“What?”

 

“I-if I beat Victor in this dance-off, will you be my coach?”

 

Yuuri’s eyes widen. “No- Yuri you don’t have to do that-” He says quickly, placing a hand on Yuri's shoulder to keep Yuri from running off and challenging Victor to a dance-off.

 

Yuri laughs in his face. It is loud and carefree for the first time in a while. “Ha! You should have seen the look on your face. I thought you were going to have a heart attack. I’m not that drunk, pig, I’ve only had a few glasses.”

 

Instantly, Yuuri looks infinitely relieved as well as several years older. “Wow… I don’t even know what to say.”

 

Yuri wipes a tear from his eye after laughing so hard. Then, he notices Yuuri’s expression and is quickly sobered. “What is it?”

 

“I would do it,” he said, and Yuri realized that his expression, that indiscernible look, was resolution, certainty. He meant it.

 

“What?”

 

“If you’re serious that is. About me coaching you? I would do it.”

 

\--------------------------

Epilogue

\--------------------------

 

“Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen to this year’s Rostelecom Cup. Up next is the highly anticipated return of Russian skating legend, Yuri Plisetsky. After taking a year to recover from injury, Plisetsky is back in competition.” An announcer narrates as Yuri circles the ice. He waves to the crowd, but he has eyes like a soldier, completely focused on the task at hand. 

 

“After a dazzling short program yesterday, he is back today with the debut of his free skate program. His coach, Katsuki Yuuri choreographed the program and Plisetsky made it clear to us earlier that the choice of music was entirely his own decision. Today, he will be skating to a piece originally written especially for Katsuki Yuuri titled: Yuri!!! On Ice.”

 

Yuri’s face betrays no emotion as he skates to the center of the ice and assumes his starting pose. There is only one moment, and it is gone in the blink of an eye, where Yuri locks eyes with Otabek and every emotion he is hiding is betrayed in a single glance. So much is going through his head right now, but he is strong enough to put it all aside, and do what he is meant to do: skate.

 

They have reached a huge level of trust. Yuri lets Otabek see all of those emotions, all the distractions that get pushed aside in favor of the larger goal. He doesn’t have to ignore them anymore. He lets Otabek carry their weight too and he is glad to do it.

 

The piece begins and Yuri unfolds on the ice. It starts slowly, with rolling arpeggios building slowly and steadily. They haven’t talked so much about what this song and this performance really mean to Yuri, but Otabek has an idea. 

 

In this part, he sees Yuri’s long road to recovery. It was hard and tedious, and heartbreaking for a lesser man, but not for Yuri. He has been forged in fire, and he takes his setbacks in stride. 

 

Yuri comes up to the first jump, a quad salchow, a very difficult jump and his first quad in competition in over a year. Otabek holds his breath as he watches him enter the jump. The earth seems to fall out beneath him, time seems to slow down, but before he knows it Yuri has landed the jump perfectly and is on to the rest of the performance.

 

The whole rink seems to let out a collective sigh. Yuuri has the biggest smile on his face. Victor might be crying, but Otabek can’t take his eyes off of Yuri. He is so beautiful.

 

This performance shows just how hard he has worked to get back to where he was. It is so easy to see just how hard this past year has been and yet, he is here now. Yuri has come back. It was difficult, but soon it will all be worth it. In a small way, even making it here has been worth it. 

 

On the ice, Yuri delves into all of the emotions he showed briefly before, only to Otabek. Here they are on full display: pain, frustration, determination, joy, ambition, pride, love. 

 

Yes, Otabek decides, there is love in there too. 

 

He is so caught up in Yuri that he hasn’t been paying attention to the points he is scoring. Really, he hasn’t noticed because the whole performance is so beautiful. He keeps coming back to that word with Yuri. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful…

 

When you look at a good skater, you look at their skills. What jumps can they land, how is their technique, what elements did they include, what does their step sequence look like? This is what makes a decent skater.

 

With a great figure skater, you forget all of that and all you can see is their performance. The technical skills have been honed to perfection. Jumps are executed flawlessly and their job is to make you feel. A great skater pretends not to care about hitting all of their jumps, they work to make art with their bodies on ice.

 

Saying that a skater looks beautiful on ice isn’t some superficial offhand comment. It’s a legitimate critique of their performance. Presentation is critical to becoming one of the best figure skaters in the world. 

 

Otabek knows that Yuri is a great skater. 

 

The piece comes to a close as Yuri slows his spin to a stop in time with the music. He finishes the performance just as Yuuri did years ago when he skated to it: one arm extended, pointed right to Otabek.

 

Otabek doesn’t hesitate to smile as Yuri skates over to him, faster than he probably should and with no care for anyone else in the rink. They hug so tightly, he isn’t sure that they’ll ever really let go. 

 

“You were perfect,” says Otabek in Yuri’s ear.

 

Breathing heavily from his skate, Yuri doesn’t have the words to answer.

 

He settles for a kiss, long and languid, on international television.

 


End file.
